


California Milk

by QxzVIl



Series: Derek Hales Supernatural Fuck Fest across the Fifty States (and Canada) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bound, Milking, Other, Wolfsbane, drugged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QxzVIl/pseuds/QxzVIl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale has finally decided to leave Beacon Hills, the dead of night giving him all the cover he needed to disappear. Trouble, however, didn't want to send him off without a goodbye, so he ended up-surprise, surprise-bound against his will. But something about this time felt different. Like it was alright either way.</p>
<p>Part 1 of 14</p>
            </blockquote>





	California Milk

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t plan to update this regularly, this is more for me to play around with when I’m in a writer’s block on my other works. I have fourteen works planned for this, but who knows when they’ll come into existence.  
> Anyways, leave a kudos and a nice comment if you feel like it~ Bye!

He really should have known better than to accept wolfs bane infused whiskey from an anonymous person. But he did anyways. He had chosen to leave Beacon Hills finally, leave everything behind and just get away. He had no idea where he was headed or what he would even do once he left, but it didn’t matter. All that did matter was getting away from that place forever.

Back to the wolfs bane, he really should not have drank it so willingly. But since he was finally “free” and about to leave the California border for Oregon, he thought he would do one final act of stupidity-which, he thought, were nearly all of his decisions in California-and then make better choices everywhere else.

Immediately he knew it was spiked. The wolfs bane dulled his senses and reaction times, but something else was making him feel light headed and dizzy. The bartender asked if he was alright and Derek nodded. He didn’t want to worry anyone else about his problems.

He threw down enough to cover the two drinks he had previously, and got up, the room beginning to spin. Nobody paid him any attention, everyone too interested in their own stories or company to pay a probably drunken man any mind. Except he had a feeling they didn’t know he was drugged also.

He stumbled out of the bar and to his car, head heavy and woozy, like it was full of lead. He didn’t get very far, however, before the prick of a needle into his neck made him black out.

* * *

It was still dark when he regained consciousness, but that was probably because he was now blindfolded. He was also bound, his wrists, abdomen and thighs secured with wolfs bane infused rope, which would make it impossible to break free. On top of all that, he was completely nude, the cool breeze against his torso stiffening his nipples to peaks and giving him goose bumps.

He wasn’t quite sure what had woken him up, but he realized it was probably the lazy jerking of his erect cock. He had no idea what the main goal of his captor was, but he guessed it was most likely this.

Derek had been tied up like this before in various situations. He knew that it wasn’t ever the end of the world for him, but it was never pleasant. He had envisioned it occasionally, being tied up and taken apart, his orgasm slowly brought to the surface by a skilled Dom, who knew what they were doing, and then he’d be rewarded by an orgasm from the Dom himself. But this wasn’t that situation in any sense. He was in a strange place, bound tight and his cock milked by a strange contraption against his will. That fantasy was a safe space, one they had both established together. This was a cold, foreign place; that place was warm and safe, private to the two of them only.

Figuring he had nothing better to do other than to wait this out, He went back to the fantasy he had imagined in his head, treating it almost like a security blanket in a way. He pretended that he was no longer in this place, but where he could be safe, which was his own fantasy.

He envisioned the way he’d be edged; he would be blindfolded, fighting against his ropes slightly, but not gagged, because his Dom wanted to hear his noises. He’d get a firm hand along the length of his torso after a few minutes; a hum of approval, maybe the pinch of a nipple, before moving to a caress of the face. He’d exhale and appreciate the contact, while his wolf would preen at the prospect of being rewarded for being good.

The hand would move to his cock, red from being stroked and edged sporadically over the span of a few days, but neglected nonetheless. As it gets stroked, Derek would receive a kiss, tongues lapping at each other while his cock was played with. He only needed to moan a certain way to alert his Dom that he was about to cum. He’d pull off then, and a groan would come from his own throat, which would be followed by a soft chuckle.

“Hush, pup,” the voice replied, patting his chest. “You’ll get that soon enough.” He heard the shuffling of feet, followed by the heady scent of his backside. “Go ahead, work for your reward.”

He knew he would eagerly eat his Dom out, tongue lapping out to lick at as much skin as possible while he rode his face gladly. “Yeah, that’s a good pup.” The voice replied, the sound of his . “Keep doing that.” A hand ran the length of his cock, finger playing with the leaking head, before he placed his hands on Derek’s large pectoral muscle. “What if I pierce your nipples and keep you on a chain? Would you like that?”

There was a muffled assent, and he heard the low chuckle. “Good pup.” He stood up then, removing his ass from Derek’s’ face. “You’ve been so good for me. How about I let you cum early? Would you like that?” The frantic nodding from Derek made him laugh. “Howl for your orgasm then, pup.” The hand had wrapped around his cock, waiting for his cue.

The wolf in Derek gladly did so, a mighty howl ripping from his chest. As soon as he did that, the hand began to slowly jerk him off, taking the time to do so. The only difference would be instead of pulling off just before he shot, the hand continued, tightening his grip as he continued. Derek moaned, saying he was coming, and then did so, the caliber of his orgasm so violent he screamed from the feeling.

After about a minute, he felt the ropes tying him down slacken, one after the other coming free from his body. The last thing to come free was his blindfold, and he slowly opened his eyes in the dim lighting of their basement. His Dom didn’t have a face, and instead remained faceless. He figured once he saw the right one, there would no longer be this problem.

His own eyes would be shifted, not alpha red, but beta blue instead for some reason.

“It’s okay,” He soothed, holding Derek close to his chest as his sub came down from this venture and let the heavy emotions wash over him. “You’re okay, it’s okay.” One hand patted his head while the other one rubbed slow circles into his chest in just the right place.

Derek only nodded, breathing ragged as he quietly sobbed. That was the other thing about this Dom; he actually cared for his well-being, unlike everyone he’s ever run into.

“Are you okay?” He asked after a few minutes, wiping the moisture from Derek’s eyes. When Derek nodded, he smiled. “Good. Now, how about we have a shower and we’ll watch a movie?” Derek only nodded, letting his Dom support him to their living space upstairs.

He groaned as the fantasy he played out in his head ended, the memory completely overwhelming when combined with the machines advances. Before he knew it, he was arching his back, biting down on the tube in his mouth as he shot his first load.

As he finished, something strange began to ooze out of the tube in his mouth. The substance was like less sticky glue and it sat thickly in his mouth, filling it so much so that he feared it would dribble out. He couldn’t really spit it out, so he went the other way and swallowed it thickly, goop going down like cornstarch and glue mixed together.

Once he swallowed the mysterious substance, he thought he would be freed. But that wasn’t the case. His cock, which was wet from cum and softened somewhat, had slowly risen back to hard, and he felt like he desperately needed to cum once more.

The machine decided to wake up once more, beginning its workout of Derek’s cock again. But while he shouldn’t be able to get this hard, or reach an orgasm for that matter, he already felt as if he hadn’t at all. The tube, now that it had lubrication from his previous load, was a much slicker ride along his cock.

The fluid he had swallowed probably had something in it to shorten his recovery time. No, something else was there too; something that was a long forgotten taste. It didn’t hit him that the last time he had tasted it was when he was a teenager, experimenting with himself, curious on what had just spurted from his adolescent cock.

He had just swallowed his own cum.

He moaned around the tube in his mouth, back arching as he nearly came once more.

He heard footsteps then. His ears picked up the sound over the sucking, coming closer and closer until they stopped close to him. He muffled a response, hoping the source of the feet would free him. But no such thing; Instead, he felt something latch onto his nipples, squeezing tight. He snarled at this, struggling once more.

Suddenly the machine picked up speed, making him halt his struggles. Clearly, whoever was in front of him didn’t like what he had done. Derek stiffened as a latex hand ran down his chiseled abs, stopping right below his bellybutton, and then removed. The steps receded, moved up a flight of stairs, and went through a door, if the slamming sound was any guide.

Soon his orgasm ripped through him, a second volley of cum gushing out from his rigid cock, Derek’s head thrown back in ecstasy. The same fluid ran down his throat soon after his second orgasm, and his cock began to stiffen once more.

He had the feeling he’d be here for some time.

* * *

Clamps on his nipples, tube going into his mouth, shaft being pumped on a continuous streak by the contraption, Derek Hale was at the complete mercy of whoever was doing this to him.

Derek had lost count of his orgasms around ten, the prolonged pleasure and taste of his cum making him both delirious and exhausted. He was once tense and edgy, but now he just hung there, taking whatever he was getting without any struggle. His cock felt sore, mostly from being rubbed raw for however long he had been subject to this torment. Although, pain aside, he had realized slowly that he had begun to enjoy this. The orgasms he had achieved here were far better than what he had achieved by himself in his own apartment.

There was the sound of a door opening again, followed by, what he assumed, was the same set of feet. He didn’t move too much, too focused on the work out his cock had been receiving.

He moaned softly, alerting he was alive. There was clinking of glasses, which made him think his cum was being stored, and a hum. It was too low to pick up anything, but he was sure they were either mute, or some sort of creature without a presence. Maybe he should have asked Stiles about a few more creatures other than the ones that were an immediate threat.

The feet stepped closer, and he tensed slightly. The machine began to slow then, and eventually stopped. After it had stopped, he felt some sort of goo slathered onto his cock from the machine, which was finally removed. Derek felt his cock hang from his pelvis, hard and wet, but not able to hold itself up anymore.

He muffled a reply, but there was a hum. Derek heard what vaguely sounded like “good” before there was another prick in the side of his neck, and he blacked out.

* * *

When he woke up again, he was laying on a cold, stained mattress inside of an abandoned warehouse. He was no longer bound or being milked against his will, but he was still naked. But, looking to his left, his clothes were all sitting there, folded, as if he had taken them all off himself and folded them neatly before going right to sleep.

Sitting up and putting his clothes back on, nothing was out of the ordinary. He didn’t smell or hear anyone nearby, nor was there any sign of anyone being here recently before him. It was just one big, cold room.

Derek walked towards one of the busted windows and saw his car sitting off to the side. It wasn’t damaged or even tampered with, it was just parked in a way to allow him to get inside and drive off, given that the keys were still where he left them.

And they were in there, sitting neatly on the dashboard. He wasn’t even quite sure what had happened so that the car was moved without a trace or scent. The seat wasn’t even warm from being driven.

_Was it a dream?_ Derek asked himself as he got in the car after checking everything under the hood was alright and that he had everything. _Had I imagined everything?_

_That was impossible,_ he thought. He truly did feel he experienced that entire situation.

Or had he?

His thoughts were still on the situation as he drove past the “Welcome to Oregon!” sign, signaling he was out of California. Unknowingly, he relaxed somewhat, shoulders dropping and head clearing a bit. Like a fog had been lifted from him in a sense.

Around nine in the morning he got a ping from his cellphone. He got three more, but didn’t read them until he stopped to stretch his legs around noon on an Oregon cliff. The smell of saltwater and the sound of waves lapping against the cliffs was a welcome change from the rustling of wind and trees he had become accustomed to.

Only the pinging of a new text brought him back to that dark place, and he figured he might as well get it over with. Opening them, there were four sitting there waiting for him.

“Derek, Cora says your scent has weakened, which means you either died or you left town finally. So which one is it?”

“Hey, don’t ignore me.”

“Are you listening to me?”

“I know you’re surly and lack conversation skills, but this is getting a bit much even for your standards.”

Derek rolled his eyes as he opened them, responding back. “The second one, and no, I’m not really listening to you.” He sent that off, thought about it for a second, before sending another text. “Probably won’t ever come that way again, if I have any choice in the matter.”

Stiles responded barely a second after the second one. “I figured as much. You deserve this, after all the shit Scott unknowingly forced you into.” The second text surprised Derek. “He’s kind of an asshole.”

Derek was curious, so inquired about it while still he had the chance. “In a friendly way, or an ‘I’m seeing the light for the first time’ way?”

“The second one. Although, I have to admit, that was oddly well spoken, even for you.”

Derek snorted. “I’m known to be articulate when I need to be.” He didn’t receive another text for a while, he was probably either in class or busy with something else. No matter; Derek was more than okay inhaling more salty sea air and pine needle smell than he knew what to do with. The next texts held underlying sadness.

“I guess so. So, New York bound?”

Derek shrugged to nobody. “I don’t know; maybe?” He paused on the send button. “Watch over Cora for me, since I know Scott won’t.” He hit send, watching as a hawk soared overhead.

“I think she can take care of herself, dummy. Scott nursed a broken wrist from her after he made a stupid comment.” Stiles replied, a wink face at the end of it.

That made Derek smile. “I don’t doubt it.” Derek hit send, looking at his phone. He really had only one last thing to say. “Goodbye Stiles.”

The text came a minute later. “Take care, Sourwolf.” With one final smile, he locked the phone and chucked it over the cliff. He heard the brief splash of it hitting the water, and Derek roughly exhaled, feeling all the stresses of his past melting away. He turned his head up to the sky, and let out the mightiest howl he could muster at the moment.

The distant howling he heard behind him was a welcome sound.

***END***


End file.
